Good and Bad
by Fred-Weasley-Isn't-Dead
Summary: Jeff Sterling had to face it. He was a wreck. His dad was homophobic and verbally abusive, he's more than afraid to stand up for himself, his still recovering from his suicide attempt and his sanity depends on his boyfriend, Nick. But Sebastian Smythe can't stop messing with his head. Trigger warning: Verbal abuse and self-harm.


Two identical notebooks sat on Jeff Sterling's desk as he sat on his swivel chair, twisting back and forth absently as he waited to determine whether he would be writing in his good journal or his bad one, their marvel covers staring back at him as he his dad got on the other end of the line, undisguised scorn and disgust in his voice. Jeff didn't even have to hear past, "What, faggot?" to know that, yes, it was a bad journal day. The phone call lasted an excruciating half an hour, because Jeff wasn't stupid enough to hang up on his dad. Thankfully, he could hardly hear some parts of it over the rain pouring down and beating ominously against the roof, dark clouds blocking any hope of sunshine, but it'd been like that all day.

Once the call was over, Jeff resisted the urge to whip his phone against the wall as he grabbed a slightly rusted razor from where he'd taped it under his desk and went to work. It was moments like this when he was absolutely grateful that Nick's work schedule kept him busy. As soon as he had taken everything out on his arm, he cleaned himself up, sighing to himself. He rubbed at the bruises on his neck as he started writing; a sweatshirt of Nick's that he'd stolen covering the cuts and scars. It was hardly five minutes later that Nick came in, run ragged from work. Jeff slammed his notebook shut and shoved it and his razor back in his desk, snapping the padlock shut and replacing the key back on his keychain.

Nick wasn't fazed by this. Jeff had been a very private person from the moment they met and it was nothing out of the ordinary. He shook out his wet hair, smiling a little when he saw his last name printed in white letters across Jeff's back. "Hey, baby," he said, moving over to kiss the top of Jeff's head. Jeff forced a smile, which Nick, trusting, sweet and oblivious as he was, bought. Jeff turned and caught Nick's lips in a kiss. "Our schedules bite, I have to leave for dance," he said, pocketing the keys to his crappy car.

Frowning, Nick pulled Jeff up and kissed him again. "Have enough time for a quickie?" he asked teasingly, since he and Jeff hadn't even had sex yet. Jeff wanted to wait and Nick was definitely not going to force the issue.

"I'm late as it is, love," Jeff murmured back, grabbing his bag from his bed as he pecked Nick's lips one last time. "I'll be back by-"

"Nine," Nick said as he settled down and Jeff grabbed his umbrella. "I know." Jeff rolled his eyes fondly as he left.

Jeff had hardly taken five steps out of the dorm as he left, closing the door behind himself, when Sebastian Smythe stepped out of the doorway to his own room. Jeff didn't like Sebastian, really. His abrasive attitude was something too similar to that of Jeff's old bullies for liking, but he was friends with Nick, so Jeff did his best to tolerate him.

"Sterling!" Sebastian said brightly, Jeff stiffening a little. He knew that tone all too well. "I have news for you."

"Not in the mood, Sebastian," Jeff muttered as he brushed past Sebastian, trying his damnedest not to touch him or brush up against him in any way.

Sebastian smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "That's not what your boyfriend said," he called after Jeff, watching as he froze.

When Jeff slowly turned around, his eyes were wide and his lips were parted slightly, as if they were still stuck in a gasp. "What?" he asked nearly inaudibly, betrayal and hurt flashing through his eyed. Nick wouldn't. Sebastian was just messing with his head, like so many before had.

"Nick and I fucked," Sebastian said simply as he started stalking towards Jeff, smirk firmly in place. "It's not the first time, either. You really should consider putting out," he added, enjoying the wounded look on Jeff's face.

"But, he just…got back from work," Jeff protested weakly, tears pricking behind his eyes.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, scoffing. "How stupid are you? Nobody works that often, dumbass. His hair was wet? He took a shower. Because he didn't want to come back smelling like sex."

Jeff ducked his head, trying not to let Sebastian see him cry. If there was one thing he'd learned from all of his years of schooling, it was to never let them see you cry. "I have to go," he whispered, voice cracking dangerously as he all but ran out of the building not bother to put up his umbrella as he sprinted to his car, slamming the door behind himself and his bag tossed carelessly on the passenger seat.

He forced himself to go to dance. Dance was his therapy, the only thing that had kept him sane ever since he attempted. He'd never missed a practice and this wasn't going to be the first. Practice was miserable and he messed up most of the work, a beat behind on all of his steps. At one of their water breaks, he was finally told to just go home, having been crying silently since he stepped in the door.

"You're home early," Nick said as he walked in; head ducked and his raindrop splattered hood pulled up over his hair. "It's only eight," he added.

"Yeah," Jeff mumbled, sniffling, not looking at Nick as he plugged his phone in and changed out of his dance clothes, having already showered at the studio. "Miss Adelaide cut rehearsal short," he added, putting the clothes in his practice clothes drawer as he grabbed a pair of pajama pants and climbed into his own bed.

Nick frowned. He and Jeff normally slept in the same bed, to the point where they were planning on pushing the beds together. "You okay?" he asked softly, closing his book with a bookmark in place and turning over to look at Jeff.

Jeff nodded, crawling under the covers. "Fine," he whispered hoarsely, pulling the covers over his head. "Please just leave me alone."

As curious and concerned as Nick was, he backed off and dropped it, picking up his book again and sighing. "Alright…you know I'm here if you want to talk," he offered kindly, glancing over at his boyfriend and biting his lower lip.

Jeff nodded before he curled up under the covers and let the emotional exhaustion of the day lull him to sleep within minutes.

* * *

"He's been asleep all day," was the first thing Jeff heard when he first started to wake up. "Like, came home at eight and crashed…its four pm, is this healthy?"

Jeff groaned, sitting up and rubbing his temples, the all too familiar headache that came with crying the previous day pounding against his head. "Who're you talking to?" he asked, not looking at Nick as the events from the previous day hit him like an anvil.

"The nurse," Nick murmured away from the receiver as Jeff groaned and flopped back down on his bed lightly. "You feeling okay, babe?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching out to feel Jeff's forehead. He frowned as Jeff cringed away.

"Yeah. Fine," Jeff replied curtly as he stood up and headed for the en suite bathroom and closed the door behind himself with a rather uncharacteristic slam. Nick winced and hung up, sighing to himself.

Jeff didn't leave the bathroom until he was sure Nick had left for class. He got dressed, grabbed his headphones and phone from the charger before made a dash for the library, his safe haven. He loved the library, any type of library, really. He could bury himself among the fictional books; immerse himself in the characters' lives so he could pretend that his own misfortunes were nonexistent, at least for a little while. He grabbed a battered copy of a classic favorite of his and plopped down on a beanbag chair nestled in the most secluded corner of the library. It practically had an imprint of his butt in it. He carefully adjusted his headphones over his ears, put his music on and got comfortable. He didn't care about his classes. He could afford to skip a day of classes.

The Warblers practice that had been scheduled for later on that day had slipped his mind entirely, to the point where getting eighteen texts from various Warblers asking where he was had him banging his head against the wall. "I'm going to have gavel shaped bruises," he mumbled, raking a hand through his bangs. To make it worse, practice was over by the time he'd remembered and Wes was stalking towards him angrily.

Jeff sighed and stood up, looking down at Wes. "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," he promised before Wes had even gotten a word out.

The head Warbler raised his eyebrows and stood up straighter. "Glad we got that sorted out," he said. "But I need you and David to start choreographing for Can't _Get You out of My Head_."

Jeff scoffed, pulling his headphones to rest around his neck before he winced and pulled the off entirely. "Why don't you just steal the choreography from Dance Central…if you can even call it choreography," he muttered as he bent down to start picking up the books that had accumulated around his beanbag chair, at least five of them having a Pulitzer Prize Winning embellishment on the front cover. Wes helped pick up the many books, pondering just how long Jeff spent in the library that day and how long it took him to read a book.

"Jeff," Wes said quietly, turning his head to look Jeff in the eye. "Please." They stood as Jeff started leading Wes around and returning the books to their rightful places.

Jeff sighed, but nodded as he finished off the books in Wes' arms and started on the ones in his own. "Whatever. Tell David to meet me in Warbler Hall tomorrow at three."

Wes grinned, pleased but not surprised that he had gotten his way. "By the way," he began as he turned to leave. "I wouldn't mind if you put Sebastian in back."

Jeff chuckled, shaking his head fondly but the idea didn't seem like a half bad one.


End file.
